My take on a trend going around…
What would happen if we got the chance to talk to our little self? Would they be proud? Would we still speak so harshly to ourselves? Would we inspire them, or would they be a reminder for us?
I met my younger self for coffee today.
She was ten minutes late, I was five minutes early.
She ordered the sweetest drink on the menu, whipped cream and an unnecessary drizzle of caramel. I sipped my espresso and watched her take it all in.
“You’re different,” she said, wide eyed, studying me over the rim of her cup.
I smiled. “You are too, but you don’t know it yet.” She tilted her head, curious but not questioning.
“Did we make it?” she asked, her voice soft. I laughed lightly and shook my head, grinning, “you have no idea, but yes.”
She asked about the places we’ve been, the ones we swore we’d visit. “Did we go, did we see the world?”
“We’re about to check off our 11th country.” I told her about Costa Rica coming up and Italy–the narrow streets, the way the air smelled like history and fresh bread. She grinned.
She asked if we were happy.
I paused, stirring my coffee, watching the swirl disappear. “It took a little while, but oh yeah, we’re happy, but remember that happiness isn’t a destination,” I told her. “It’s in the moments when the world slows, when we realize we’re exactly where we’re meant to be. I’ve been getting better at those pause points, so yes, but it never happens the way you think it will.”
She asked if it hurt. I said yes.
She hesitated before asking the next question. “Was it worth it?”
I didn’t need to think. “A thousand times over.” She exhaled, relief and wonder, now settling.
She looked out the window, thoughtful. Then, with a nod, she finished her drink and licked the last of the whipped cream from the straw.
When she stood to leave, I wanted to tell her everything—about the detours, the heartbreaks, the unexpected joys. But I didn’t. Some things, I knew, she had to find out for herself.
Instead, I just whispered, “Keep going.”
And she did.
